girl.’
Mackillin turned to Jack and said in a low voice, ‘Forgive me. She called me a barbarian and wanted to stick a knife in me.’
‘It’s because you’re a Borderer, Mackillin. I’m sorry,’ said Jack. ‘My great-uncle and grandfather used to tell us such hair-raising tales of the Scots reivers that we couldn’t sleep nights.’
Master Husthwaite stepped forward, ‘Mistress Cicely needs a curbing hand on her bridle. She threatened to do the same to me. I was only defending myself when this Mackillin came in on us.’
‘You lie. There was no sign of a blade and you were rolling her in the straw, man,’ said Mackillin, his expression disdainful. ‘She wanted none of you.’
The man sneered. ‘Nor of you. Get back to your own land. This family’s affairs are in my hands and have naught to do with you, barbarian.’
Mackillin’s anger boiled over and he seized Master Husthwaite by the throat of his surcoat and hoisted him into the air. Thrusting him on to his horse, he said, ‘Be gone from here before I put my fist down your throat and rip out your tongue.’ He hit the horse’s flank with the flat of his hand.
Master Husthwaite scrabbled to get hold of the reins and slid sideways but Mackillin forced him upright as the horse set off at a trot towards the beaten-earth track that led to the village and then the highway that would take him to Knaresborough, more than a league away.
Jack frowned. ‘I don’t like this. Father would never have agreed to such a man taking charge of our business affairs.’
‘That man’s a rogue. Is there someone else you can turn to help you deal with him?’
Jack nodded. ‘There’s Diccon, but I don’t know where he is…and there’s our stepsister’s husband Owain, who was a close friend of Father’s. I imagine Matt or Cissie will contact them. I wonder where Matt is?’ He glanced around. ‘He must be out somewhere. Otherwise he would have heard the commotion and come running to see what was going on. I hope he won’t be long. You will stay the night and speak to him?’
Mackillin looked up at the louring sky and nodded. ‘Aye. We would not get far before darkness fell. Now inside and see to your sister while Robbie and I deal with the horses. And, Jack, do not mention aught about your father’s offer to reward me with her hand in marriage. I cannot accept it.’ He urged Jack in the direction of the house. ‘I will see the baggage is taken indoors for you to unpack at your leisure.’
Jack thanked him and hurried after Cicely.
He found her kneeling in front of the fire, stroking one of the dogs. The face she turned towards him was tear-stained and when she spoke her voice shook. ‘I must believe what you say is true. I know you would not jest about such a matter as our dear father’s death.’
‘I’m sorry, Cissie.’ Awkwardly, he put an arm about her shoulders. ‘I’ve dreaded breaking the news to you. Where’s Matt?’
‘He’s gone to Kingston-on-Hull for news of you from Father’s shipping agent. It was in his heart that he might find you both there.’
His blue eyes darkened. ‘The agent did not mention him. When did he leave?’
‘Only this morning and he took most of our men.’ She sighed and got to her feet. ‘So you spoke with the agent. What did he have to say?’
‘He did not seem surprised to hear that Father was dead and spoke of Master Husthwaite. I had no idea his uncle was dead. A courier should have been sent to one of our agents in Europe, then word would have reached us and Father would have come home.’
‘I did not know of the elder Master Husthwaite’s demise until now and as far as I know his nephew has had no proper legal training, but only acted as his clerk.’ Her voice was strained. ‘Anyway, it is pointless discussing this at the moment. We need to get word to Diccon.’
Jack nodded. ‘You know where he is?’
Her expression was sombre. ‘No. But most likely Kate or Owain will know how to get news to him. They all must be informed of Father’s death.’ She paused as tears clogged her throat and had to swallow before continuing. ‘If Diccon cannot be found, no doubt Owain will help us deal with Master Husthwaite if he should prove really troublesome.’
‘Let’s hope so.’
Cicely wiped her damp face with the back of her hand. ‘Tell me, did Father suffer? Were the devils responsible caught and punished?’
Jack kicked a smouldering brand that had fallen onto the hearth. ‘Death came swiftly for him, but not before he had wrung a promise from Mackillin to see me home safely. He killed one of them and so did Robbie, but another escaped.’
Her fingers curled into the palms of her hands. ‘I can’t understand how Father believed he could trust a Border reiver to do his bidding,’ she cried.
Jack looked uncomfortable. ‘He is not what you think. I saw how they recognised each other.’
She was amazed. ‘How could Father know such a man?’
Jack sought to scratch his itching arm beneath the splints. ‘They’ve both travelled. Mackillin owns his own ship. They must have met for the first time before Father promised our stepmother to stop his wanderings—after he inherited this manor from our great-uncle and chose to live here, rather than in Grandfather’s house, which was ramshackle.’
‘I remember. I was twelve summers when Great-uncle Hugo died and left no issue. Father decided to run the two manors as one,’ she murmured through lips that quivered.
Jack’s expression was sombre. ‘Five years ago. Matt and I were ten. Most likely Father and Mackillin met in Calais.’
Cicely sighed and picked up the pillowcase she had been embroidering before she had left the house earlier that day. ‘That’s where Diccon met Edward of York. Father was angry because he was so taken with him and spoke of allying himself to his cause.’ She put the linen down again, too upset to sit and sew.
Jack grimaced. ‘You couldn’t expect Father not to be. He’s supported Henry of Lancaster all his life, despite his being half-mad and a hopeless king. More priest than soldier, so Father said.’
Cicely nodded. ‘This is true and why I suppose Diccon has gone over to the side of York, despite his having been born and raised in Lancashire.’ Yet that was not her father’s only reason for withholding his permission for her and Diccon to wed…the fact that he was landless and had little in the way of money most probably had a lot to do with it, too.
Jack sighed. ‘I’m tired and in no mood to worry myself about the affairs of York and Lancaster right now. We have enough troubles of our own. Father would expect you to show all courtesy to Mackillin. Food and shelter is the least we can provide him with as he refuses to claim the reward Father offered him.’
Cicely’s eyes sharpened. ‘So that’s what brings him here—the promise of a reward.’
Jack frowned. ‘I should not have mentioned it. I told you he has no intention of claiming it.’
‘So he says,’ she said scornfully. ‘He deceives you. He must know Father is a wealthy man. Perhaps he intends to take
